


50/50

by Finian



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Eiffel Tower, M/M, More of a pale Clover/Fin, Multi, Quarters is kind of a jerk, Sex in Ch 2, Very very mild gunplay, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finian/pseuds/Finian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Fin should have paid more attention- maybe he should have also gotten to know more about his fellow Felt's powers.<br/>-- Noncon for some mild Dubcon --</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Even split.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Chapter 2 (with the smutty bits) is up! The Non-Con warning isn't as bad as it sounds- it just gets pretty dubcon at points, and I wanted to make sure people were well-warned!

Fin has a habit of getting lost in the streams- watching the colors, matching names to trails to faces, running his claws through the ethereal rivers. Some flow faster- those are the near future, the trails that are about to be followed. The near future is brighter, and on the occasions he finds himself alone, those even seem to hum with life.

He was watching them, listening in on a particularly green trail- it was taking him a moment to figure out exactly who's trail it was- when it hit him. Quarters! Of course, he was a little surprised he hadn't placed the face to the feeling sooner. Quarters carried with him a sharp air of danger- all sharp beak and deadly coins. The trail was getting faster, brighter, louder. "Hey Qu-"

He hadn't been watching the trails on the other side of the room. He'd been so focused on Quarters's path that he hadn't even given the room a cursory glance. What an idiot! A large hand clapped over his eyes, too gentle to be Eggs or Biscuits. Cans, probably. He was always gentle when it came to the rest of the guys.

"Hand out." Quarters whispered, and it was far more intimate than Fin was expecting. The taller 'dude's beak was close to his face, too close for comfort, something he'd seen pierce metal. Fin obeyed without a thought, sticking his hand out. If Quarters was about to drop something nasty in his hand, he knew Cans wouldn't be a part of it.

Something cold was pressed to his palm. Metal. A bullet? No. He closed his fingers around it, running it between his fingers. A coin. A quarter. Shit.

"Flip." Fin could feel his heart stop. It had to be his own quarter- why would he be flipping someone else's? No, no. If he flipped himself, he'd die! Why would he flip? He shook his head before clearing his throat. 

"I ain't-" He could barely squeak that out before he felt cold metal against his stomach. Whatever it was, gun or knife, it wasn't good. Shit. What had he done? With shaking hands he positioned the coin, swallowing hard before flipping it. There was a little ping as it hit the carpet. Still alive. He barely had a moment to rejoice before the coin was pressed to his palm again.

"Again. Flip." Oh, god no. No. Still, Fin could feel that slowly-warming metal at his gut, and his fingers found themselves positioning to coin to flip it again. Knees shaking, he waited for the sound of the coin reaching the carpet. Alive. Cans's other hand moved to his shoulder, holding him still as he quivered, shaking like a leaf. He didn't have to be told to flip the next time the coin was placed in his palm.

Plink. Alive.

"I'm- I'm sure whatever it was I did, or said, I didn't mean it." It was an empty apology. The coin was in his palm again. "I'll owe you- anythin' you want- jus' stop." He flipped anyways.

Plink. Still alive.

"Please, please! Have some mercy!" He could feel his voice breaking. "C'mon- I ain't great or nothin', I know that, but I can be real useful! I'll shut up an' do whatever, I swear." He wasn't lucky like Clover. There was no way. He closed his hand, pulling it back. Quarters grabbed his wrist, prying his hand open and pressing the quarter into his palm. 

"Flip."

"Please."

"Flip. Now."

Fin flipped. And waited, listening in for that fifth plink- nothing. And he couldn't breathe, and his body stiffened, and- and-

And Cans let go of his throat and eyes, and Quarters was laughing, holding out a blank piece of metal. A coin slug. Fin shattered, staring at his hands for a few good moments.

"You should have heard yourself." Quarters chuckled, chirping through his beak. "You would have made yourself 'real useful'." The laughter held no real venom, like Quarters saw nothing wrong in what he had done. A friendly prank. Even Cans was chuckling along.

Fin rubbed hard at his eyes. They'd been watering, brimming with tears since the first flip. When Quarters noticed, he fell silent, reaching out to take his hand carefully, pressing the slug into his palm.

"Fin, we really didn't mean to scare you like that." He began, looking up to Cans, silently begging him to take over.

"Oh, Fin. Little man, we didn't mean any harm by it. You know I'm not in the business of hurting my crew." Cans clucked, sounding more and more like some sort of father figure. "Are you okay? Don't cry. I think Quarters and I can make you feel better. How about some food? A movie, on us."

Fin nodded through his silent tears, hands still rubbing at his cheeks. How embarrassing, blubbering in front of the big guys. "A m-movie sounds real nice, yeah." Quarters smiled- or, at least, he seemed to be smiling- pressing his beak to Fin's cheek in some mockery of a kiss.

"We'll make it up to you. I promise. Keep the slug."


	2. 50/50? More like 32/32/30/6.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarters and Cans make good on their offer of a movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The part I'm sure you were all looking forward to! (Completely unbeta'd. Catch something? Let me know!)

The movie was fine. It wasn't great- well, the movie itself was great, but being wedged between Cans and Quarters was less than great. To top that off, Clover insisted on coming along, sitting on Fin's lap and kicking his legs against his shins. At least they'd bought him popcorn (half of which was fed patiently to Clover, who was too busy with his huge soda to be able to reach it) and a drink.

The car ride home was a little bit worse. Quarters drove, Clover up in HIS lap now, and it seemed like the little guy was playing musical laps, but Fin knew it was for luck. Fin sat on Cans, who took up most of the back seat, but sitting on Cans wasn't the worst. He was big enough that Fin could sit sideways, leaning against his chest. His huge hand was on his thigh, but Fin didn't think anything of it.

Or, he didn't think anything of it until his giant fingers began tracing little circles against his pants, regulation green and just as uncomfortable as the rest of his suit, drawing little swirls towards the inside of his thighs. Fin looked up, but Cans remained as stoic as ever, staring straight ahead. Okay, maybe just a mindless action. No problem.

He squeezed. Cans squeezed his inner thigh, gentle as ever, raising his free hand to his lips in a shushing motion. He winked. Cans winked at him as he squeezed his thigh again, and the rush of fear that flew to the pit of Fin's stomach was so sharp that he nearly choked. Well- no. It wasn't quite fear, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. But the fingers creeping towards his crotch weren't bad. Fin shifted and coughed, cheeks red. This wasn't happening.

"Quarters, man, correct me if I'm wrong."

"You know that I always do."

"Didn't Fin say he'd make himself useful?"

"That he did, Cans."

Clover took that moment to start chatting away, pulling Quarters's attention back up front. Cans squeezed again, leaning down to press his face into the top of Fin's head, where his hat should have been. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispered, "I want you to feel good. Let me make you feel all good." Cans- who had the strength to crush him, to kill him. He would rather Cans want to make him feel good than him to smack him into next week. He nodded, silent, giving him the go-ahead.

He was kissing Cans- or rather, Cans was kissing him, and it was weird, but his hips bucked up towards his hand all the same. He patted at Cans's chest, trying to get him to stop. If he was going to do this, he needed at least a drink. Maybe two. Or four. But it looked like he wasn't getting that drink, because Cans was still kissing him and now his whole palm was against Fin's crotch, pressing. It hurt more than anything Cans had ever done, and he threw his hips down against Can's crotch to get away.

He was throwing hips- and his ass- down directly onto Cans's dick. And holy shit, if it wasn't proportional, then Fin wasn't green. The ride back to the Manor was... Uncomfortable. Fin was no longer finding the situation the slightest bit arousing. Cans was too blunt, too harsh. And Clover was staring over the seat at them, watching Fin wriggle. 

"You must be ticklish." The kiss stopped for a few minutes, as did the car, and Fin was being lifted up as Cans stood, squeezing out the van's door. "I can't wait to fuck you." Fin felt his stomach flip, and he hit at Cans's massive shoulder before turning to Quarters (who was carrying Clover under one arm) for help.

"I call his mouth. Ever sucked a cock?" Looks like Quarters would be no help whatsoever here. Clover shot him an apologetic glance before smiling up at Quarters again. He seemed to get the message, beak parting slightly as Clover giggled. Fin was tossed, with not a hint of grandeur or care, onto one of the many parlor floors (there were more than three parlors in the huge manor) once inside. At least there was carpet. His head hit the floor, and for a good few moments everything spun like the time he'd gone drinking with Crowbar. 

No one was touching him yet, but it was something about hitting his head, about (on a very small scale) feeling helpless that got his nice dress pants tightening. He was disgusted with himself. 

He wanted to claw his eyes out and stab at his brain for doing this to his own body, for betraying him when what he really needed was a clear mind to talk things out. He didn't not want to fuck, he just... Needed things a little more gentle.

Before he could speak, Quarters's hands were on his face, prying his mouth open despite the razor sharp set of chompers. 

"So you like it rough? Good. Watch the teeth, or you'll be flipping your coin for real." His voice held the slightest bite. He meant this one, as he forced Fin onto his hands and knees by pulling his head around. "Keep it open."

Fin did as he was told. He didn't want to take that chance of dying, even if Clover was right there. Speaking of, the little guy was busy darting around and under Fin, unbuttoning and removing his clothing before stepping back. Looks like this wasn't his style. He was a little thankful for that.

Quarters pushed his green cock against Fin's tongue- when had that come out?- and Fin looked up. He tried to speak, to say stop, but Quarters was grabbing his face and shoving in. Watch the teeth- Fin did his best, gagging and opening his mouth wider. He pushed in until Fin's nose was pressed against his skin, and Fin's little gags were squeezing around him.

And then huge hands were circling around his hips, and as if the cock in his mouth wasn't already reaching his stomach, he was sure Cans was going to. He had expected to feel fingers prodding at his asshole- he was so small and Cans was definitely proportionate- but instead all he felt was thick bluntness, just a little moist but nowhere near enough, pressing up against him. 

Shit. Why hadn't he set up some sort of safety system? Cans wasn't going to be able to fit without literally tearing his asshole open. His eyes began watering all over again, and not because of Quarters buried to the hilt in his throat. His frantic struggling was ignored by the two huge Felt members on either side of him, and he wanted nothing more than to tap out, to get himself out of this mess. 

As he prepared to deal with what was inevitably just going to happen, there was a pair of little hands on his back. Clover! He'd almost forgotten that the little guy was even still there. The hands traveled to the center of his back, and then the rest of him followed, standing up on Fin's shoulders. Quarters's groans and little thrusts came to a stop, and he slid out, slow as ever.

"Cans, you can't just shove into him." He sounded a little inconvenienced, like he wanted to jam himself back down Fin's throat as soon as possible. "There's a reason we brought lube."

That twinge of arousal Fin had felt earlier was long gone now, replaced by Cans's still-huge cock pressing against his ass. He'd barely done anything with the lube! Fin had a sinking suspicion that he hadn't even touched the lube, and that suspicion was all but confirmed as Cans slammed into him. He tried to scream around Quarters, who was buried just as far into his throat. Only Clover seemed to notice, banging on Can's hip before giving up the fight. 

Instead, Clover crawled up under Fin to press little kisses to his stomach and chest. Little apologies. And as much as they shouldn't have helped, they eased the pain of being split open on both ends. Maybe luck was on his side, because after a few harsh thrusts, it stopped hurting so much.

And then, after a few more, it started to feel good- a dull, throbbing pain, sure, but a good one. Before he knew it, Quarters was shooting down his throat, (He could only tell my the sounds he was making and how he held his head in place, giving sharp little thrusts) and Cans was pulling out with a wet little pop to come across his back. Fin fell when they let him go, and remained where he was, even after Cans draped a blanket over him. His stomach hurt, and his ass was starting to hurt again, so he reached out for Clover. 

Clover, the little thing he was, wormed in under the blanket with Fin easily. The two didn't need to speak- Clover just worked his way down until his little fists were wrapping around Fin's sore cock, red and swollen, pumping him slowly and gently until he was grabbing at the blankets and groaning as he came.

The Fourth Felt Member resurfaced soon after, licking at his lips. Fin was much too tired to bother saying anything, just squishing him to his chest and falling fast asleep.

Maybe he should ignore the trails more often.


End file.
